my husband is a superhero

i planned on posting about how my husband is a superhero long before today, but something happened. in my last post, i was merrily boasting of his skateboarding prowess in the face of the terrible 'tweens, which made me think of many of bdub's superhero encounters in our fair city.

but then the unthinkable happened. the next day, just blocks from our apartment, my skateboarding hero hit a bump and he stumbled, hand over hand, foot over foot, knee and palms first into the gravel. he limped home and, like a good superhero wife, i helped to clean him up and bandage him. this made me momentarily reconsider the notion that he is indeed a superhero, until my good friend mags pointed out that even superheroes get hurt. it's the recovery that counts, as they retreat to their superhero caves or lairs only to return stronger than ever.

she's right. and thus, i would like to share two examples of my sweet husband's superhero powers in the face of adversity on the streets:

in our fair city, there seems to be a trend among motorists, one of honking horns and riding bumpers despite traffic lights or stop signs that make such behavior completely illogical. hurry up and wait! be the first to sit at the stop sign! oh look! you made it to the red light first! here's your cookie.

as bdub was rambling along one sunday in our car, approaching a red light, he was being tailed by some nasty fellows, honking and riding his bumper. my hero had had enough. he coasted to a stop, and waved them forward.

"is there a problem?" he asked.

"sunday driver, mang" they replied in monotone.

"excuse me?" he asked.

"you a sunday driver, mang" they repeated.

to which he replied, "my grandma always said that people in new york are in a hurry to get nowhere".

they paused. there was a brief second or two of a stare down.

they laughed. they chuckled, "yeah..". they shifted their car into drive, grinned, and all went along on their merry ways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

in an unrelated event, my hero was unloading his equipment at his rehearsal space. he signaled to the car behind him (which was filled with a posse of scary gentlemen) that he was going to back up into the loading area.

this made the villains very upset, as they honked and carried on and called my hero a "f**king a**hole".

upon hearing this, my hero approached their window and tapped on it. they exchanged looks as if to say, "who does this guy think he is?"

as they rolled down the window, bdub said to them, "i'm sorry to have made you wait, but i really don't think it's necessary to call me a f**king a**hole".

to which the driver sighed, and then replied: "i know, man. i'm just really stressed out. i'm sorry".

and all went along on their merry ways.

to some, these may not seem like superhero maneuvers, but to me, they are signs of greatness. for i have heard tale of people tapping bumpers, kindly rolling down their windows, and forthwith getting punched in the face at the white castle drive through (just ask our friend nate-- true story!) or of innocents getting in fights over nothing but puffed up male testosterone-fueled aggro bullshit.

my hero has never engaged in fisticuffs. he chooses his words carefully. he shows nor possesses any fear. he is not willing to suffer fools gladly, nor will he back down in the fight to make his neighborhood a better place.

he will correct children who are cursing, ask people blasting music on the subways to turn it down, call after people who litter and have them pick up their garbage. as his wife, i fear that someday he may run into the wrong kind of fellows and his vigilantism may get the best of him, but i know, like any true superhero, that he would need only to retreat to our lair for a bit to emerge stronger than ever.

my hero.